It was the beginning of Grade 9; I got off the bus and eagerly awaited my first guidance counselor meeting. Fascinated by the numerous possibilities, I questioned whether I wanted to be a hair stylist, an artist, perhaps even a creative writer. I was naïve. As my open mind danced between the multitudes of opportunities, I leaped into the suited man’s office; my perspective was then narrowed. “So lawyer or doctor, what is it?”. I briefly paused to watch my artistic dreams abandon me, and hesitantly responded, “Doctor…I guess”. I marched out of the room with a new assignment to complete, med-school. As I suffocated through my sophomore and junior years, I made sure to meet all my prerequisites. Physics, check. Math, check. Chemistry, check.
